Blank Puzzle
by blue-eyes27
Summary: He was as blank as the puzzles he played. No feelings, no emotion. What happens behind his mask? What happened to Near before his arrival at Wammy's? Near begins his story...DISCONTINUED...
1. Like a Prince

**Hello peoples! I am pleased to inform you that I have stopped being lazy and have finally started to write my first on-going fanfic! I really enjoyed writing this and have revised so many times to make it perfect. I hope you enjoy! **

**Warning: Child abuse~ if you don't like, you don't have to read. **

Chapter 1: Like a Prince

Near. Close by, non distant, close in relation, close to an original, intimate or familiar, to approach. These are the many definitions of the word, near. These definitions somewhat contradict themselves, but only because my name is Near. I am always close by, yet seem distant in the eyes of all. I am close to an original-L (not as close in appearance as BB), but am my own person. I am not intimate, but am a familiar figure in the playroom or library. I am approached by many, but few stay.

My name is Near, formally Nate River. Near. A simple name for a simple person. Or so it seems, on the outside anyway. I have white hair and black brooding eyes, which haunt all who look into them (or so I've been told.) I wear white pajamas and play with toys, even though I'm well into my teenage years. Inside, my mind is complex and because I am an orphan, I was recruited to be one of L's successors. I have been and currently am, living in an orphanage, in Worchester, England. This is my home, the only one I can remember without being told. The name of this fine establishment is Wammy's. Wammy was a great inventor and very wealthy. So he decided to use that money and build orphanages all over the world. L was Wammy's prodigy and is now the world's three greatest detectives. I could tell you about their pasts, but I am human, therefore selfish, and this is **my** story.

Like all great stories, this one doesn't have a happy beginning. I was born to two very different individuals. My mother was kind, caring, nurturing, and loved me very much. My father was quite the opposite. He was mean, nasty, rude, and abusive. "Opposites attract." Very true. This is the phrase that comes to mind when thinking about them. Anyways, my mother took care of me very well. My father, well let's just say… it wasn't pretty. My father hated me. He never wanted a child. My mother insisted and seeing as how he listens to her every whim, he got her pregnant. They were married soon afterwards. So technically I'm a bastard, and my father never failed to point that out while screaming at me. Someone once said that people act differently behind closed doors. I would like to applaud that person, for simply stating the obvious by using very simple logic. The reason my mother wanted a child was because she worked at an elementary school. Simply put- she loved children. After I was born, she would take me to work almost every day. The school offered her an extended vacation, because of me, but she declined.

Up until the age of four, I loved the elementary school. My mother would lie me down in front of the window and I would take in my surroundings. I loved looking out that window. I watched the butterflies and birds in spring, the leaves in fall, and the soft snow in winter. During the summer, my mom took me to the park. I remember her laying me on a blanket, while she picked flowers. She made daisy chains, and wrapped me elegantly in them, almost like a prince. Every time we went to the park, she would read or tell me a story, almost always a fairytale. She would hum tunes and I would sing along, or vice versa. I soon became very fond of our outings, but because they were a secret from my father, I had to keep it a secret too. As we left the park, my daisy chains were strewn through the wind, only to wither and die days later.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Hopefully I will update quickly, because my writing/idea notebook has five pages of chapters filled out…. Please review! Flames, constructive critism, or whatever, I want to know what ****you**** think. Press the button… you know you wanna… :D **


	2. Daisy Chains

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OCs which will be presented in later chapters. **

**Warning: Child abuse- if you don't like, you don't have to read. **

Chapter 2: Daisy Chain

We were heading home from an outing to the park, and I had kept one of my daisy chains. We only went out while my father was at work, and my mom told him that she just took me out for walks. I guess the only flower in his eye was my mother, and he despised every other living thing, including me. He noticed the daisy chain, as I was playing with my teddy bear. My father transformed into a beast, letting loose a thousand knives of fury from his mouth, which cut me deeply. My mother tried to calm him and he threw her across the room. Apparently, because I was old enough to talk and walk, I could make daisy chains too. I never blamed my mother for anything, but I blamed her for the betrayal. At the end of the day, I can't remember what hurt more- the emotional pain, or the physical.

After that, the beatings came more and more frequently. They all started because something set my father off. The only thing I could think of was me. Me, Near. I was only three. What did I do? I still don't know. I guess my existence was enough reason. My mother still took me on outings to the park and my father became never the wiser. She taught me to read the fairytales I loved so well, and I quickly caught on. You could say I was a quick learner. Therefore, my mother decided to have me tested. They said I could start school at age four, a year early.

* * *

I was teased. I could see why. All I had to do was look in the mirror. I had white hair and black brooding eyes. My first day of kindergarten, and my teacher was my mom. While paying attention to the other kids, she forgot all about me. All day I kept quiet as the points, stares, and rumors flied. None of the other children said hello. A silent wall was put up and no one broke it down.

During snack time, two kids from my class came over and spilled fruit juice all over my goldfish. They didn't apologize, but snickered and gave each other high-fives. I was disappointed, but used to it. I started to eat the soiled goldfish, because, at least it was food. A girl with brunette locks, Linda, broke the invisible wall for a moment, and gave me half of her snack. I gladly accepted and went to throw the soiled goldfish away. On my new shirt appeared a bright red stain. My mother didn't notice it, until later that night, after my father pointed it out, and made matching ones on the carpet.

The next day at school, it was too quiet. I still got many points, stares, and heard rumors, but mostly I got sad looks. I didn't like being looked down upon, even if I was covered in bandages.

* * *

Nap time. Almost all the kindergarteners fell asleep. Literally, nap time was my 'sweet escape.' No one teased me. I could lie on my blue, lamb covered blanky and not be bothered. Plus we got to listen to music. Most of the songs were the ones my mother and I had sung in the park, so I knew them by heart. Another 'sweet escape' was the library. The library was a new-found world of books, with bright windows that I loved to look through as a child. Because I had caught on quickly, and already knew how to read I wanted so badly to see it and couldn't wait for Friday. Friday was the day we were going to see the library for the first time.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review! Flames, constructive criticism, or whatever, I want to know what ****you**** think. Press the button… you know you wanna… :D **


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